Nightmares, broth, and a heart to heart
by MadamPuddifootsTeashop
Summary: "Before a word could flee her mouth, he inched closer and reached for her, pushing up her chin with his right hand and inspecting her face for any injury. As always, she was surprised by how soft his calloused hands felt. 'Viserys didn't tug at your hair again, did he' he frowned." A small look at the relationship between Ser Willem Darry and a five year old Daenerys Targaryen.


The frilly ends of Daenerys' night gown dragged behind her as she waded through the empty halls. The stone floor felt cold against her bare feet and for a moment, she considered returning to the warmth of her bed, until another flash of lightning painted the entire hall a silvery blue. She halted and whimpered, anxious for the inevitable rumble that would follow. The sound had her dashing from her spot and speeding towards Ser Willem's bedchamber. Gathering all her strength, she opened the massive door and tiptoed inside, unwilling to frighten him awake.

She hadn't been into his room before, but felt herself unsurprised at the sight of his weaponry, gear and leather jerkins and trousers messily thrown around the room. A small ember was still burning in the big fireplace. The entire room had Dany feeling strangely comforted. Turning towards his bed, she found her big bear snoring lightly and beside him, a lady she didn't recognize tangled in his sheets.

As she moved towards him, she found the mattress just within her reach, stretching on her toes and peaking over to get a look at Ser Willem's face. And then she felt silly for ever having come here in the first place. What if her unexpected presence angered him? Not once had he yelled at her the same way he liked to yell at the servants around the house, but perhaps creeping into his room uninvited and in the middle of the night would be pushing it a little too far. Besides, she was of the blood of the dragon – Stormborn, as she was so often called. The state of the weather shouldn't frighten her.

Another strike of lightning had her flinching closer, unintentionally knocking over the empty flask that stood beside his nightstand. Ser Willem stirred, and before she could flee her scene of crime, he blinked and turned towards the source of the ruckus caused by her. Concern immediately covered his features as his eyes finally found her tiny presence. He immediately perked up, supporting his weight on his left arm.

'Princess? Is something wrong?'

The gravel in his heavy voice was made worse than usual by the lingering sleep and the sudden worry over her safety. The question however had her cheeks turn crimson and her eyes wet. What would her mother queen have said? Or worse, her noble father, upon finding her in his room for no apparent reason. She didn't like to disappoint.

Before a word could flee her mouth, he inched closer and reached for her, pushing up her chin with his right hand and inspecting her face for any injury. As always, she was surprised by how soft his calloused hands felt.

'Viserys didn't tug at your hair again, did he?' he frowned.

She shook her head and looked down in shame when his hand moved away from her chin. The frown on his face however stayed put.

'The storm. It had me frightened,' she finally admitted.

'Oh, princess,' he shushed.

He didn't start yelling as she'd feared and the smile he gave her was a comforting one. It urged her to ask him if she could sleep with him, just for this night. But then she remembered they weren't alone. Her eyes wandered from Ser Willem's bare chest to his arms to the long ebony curls of the lady behind him. Her hair lay sprawled on the cushions and Dany felt envious at the sight. She'd never particularly liked the silver strands of her own, despite Viserys' constant reassurances that they should be proud of the trait inherited from their Valyrian ancestors.

'Isn't she cold?'

Turning around in confusion, he cursed under his breath when he noticed who Dany was referring to and covered the woman's bare back with the sheets. Dany didn't understand his sudden fussing and hoped it wasn't because of her.

'Let's get you to the kitchen and have Irma warm some broth for you, shall we?'

Slipping out of the sheets, he quickly put on a linen shirt that lay on the floor, picked her up in his arms and led her away from the comfort of his room. As he walked the halls silently, Daenerys traced her fingers along his scruffy face, the stubble on his chin and cheekbones tickling her hands. Squishing his wrinkly skin together had her giggling in delight, the resemblance to a bear coming to mind. He laughed along, filling the silent halls with a symphony of their own.

'Princess,' he reprimanded, though there lay no irritation in his voice.

Instead she opted to play with his hair, choosing to braid some of his shoulder-length strands. By then, they'd arrived in the kitchens, where Irma was sleeping in the rocking chair, her hands neatly folded on top of her big tummy. A sweetness filled the air and Dany released the knight's hair so she could properly turn around and find the source of the heavenly scent. She found loaves of bread baking in a giant oven in the corner of the room, right next to where Irma was rocking back and forth in her chair.

Ser Willem placed Dany down on the counter in the middle of the room and moved away towards the sleeping Irma. Picking up a stack of heavy cooking books and recipes, he winked at Dany and let them drop again right next to the sleeping cook, the sudden sound scaring her awake. The older woman yelled out in surprise and gripped onto the fabric of her blouse in fear. The scene made Dany giggle as Ser Willem boomed with the laughter Dany loved so much to hear. He clutched his tummy tight, unable to stop laughing.

'Seven hells, you'll have the entire household die of a heartstroke if you keep this up, Darry,' she scolded him, though Dany knew she was the only one of the servants genuinely fond of Ser Willem.

She got up from her chair, rolled up some recipes and hit him on the chest, worsening his laughter. Dany's cheeks and tummy hurt of her own giggling. Cursing along the way, she went and carefully checked up on her bread. The lady was plump and her shape reminded Dany of the blueberry cakes Irma so often made for her.

'Always up and about in everyone's business, roaring orders around, trotting down the halls with those heavy boots of yours, which, might I add, leave stains in the carpets the girls can hardly get out. You shouldn't even be here in the kitchen in the first place. It's the middle of the night, shouldn't you be asleep?' the cook rambled on as she attended with care to her pastry in the smaller oven next to the one with the bread, still unaware Daenerys was there as well.

Ser Willem paid her seething no heed and returned to Dany, grabbing an apple on his way, flinging it in the air and presenting it to her with a heartwarming smile. Pleased, she accepted the apple and took a nibble.

'And just yesterday, you had these horses brought in the house. I know you like to spoil the Targaryen princess, but horses, Willem?'

Ser Willem and Dany shared a conspiring look at the mention of the horses. Only one plea on her part had been enough for the knight to arrange some horses and ponies to entertain the princess all afternoon.

'This one young servant had never before in her life seen one. I found her shaking like a leaf in the closet. Not to mention the stench they left behind. I'll send you to the market tomorrow morning to go buy some of those distilled roses.'

'Sounds like an adventure. Share to come with me, princess?'

Dany gleamed at the prospect of leaving the house, but was distracted from her thoughts by the clamour of silver falling to the floor. Irma had dropped her plate with pastry.

'My lady, I had no idea.'

Irma was flustered, but her worry soon replaced all her courtesies as she stormed over and pushed the Ser out of the way to check if Daenerys wasn't feeling ill or didn't have a fever.

'Child, why are you out of bed?'

'Couldn't sleep,' Dany shrugged, preferring not to confide in the cook how frightened the storm had made her.

'Perhaps you could warm some broth, to help my lady catch her sleep?'

Irma obliged despite the late hour and quickly put the stove on. Willem Darry placed himself before Dany again, putting himself on eyesight with her. She was still nibbling at the apple.

'So can I? Can I come with you to the market tomorrow?'

Dany's eyes glistened hopefully, and she knew Ser Willem would be unable to say no to her. Ser Willem Darry looked apologetically at Irma, who in return only beratingly pulled up her left eyebrow as a warning. She shook her head in exasperation when he said; 'Of course you can come.'

'And can we plant a tree tomorrow?'

'You ought not. Dragons plant no trees, my lady. You have servants to plant them for you.'

Irma poured the broth in a bowl and pushed it towards the pair, together with a spoon and took the now finished apple from Dany, throwing it away. She gave another last check on her bread and then plopped into her rocking chair again, closing her eyes in the hope of taking another quick nap.

Dany seemed disappointed, so Willem took her tiny hands in his big ones and ran his thumbs over the lines in her palms. 'We wouldn't want these all bruised and battered, now would we?'

Releasing her hands again after she finally managed a little smile, he took a spoonful of broth and blew at it in order to make sure it wouldn't be too hot before he'd give it to her.

'Besides,' he continued, offering her the broth. 'Once your brother reclaims the Iron Throne and takes his rightful place in King's Landing again, you'll be a princess with your own castle. Then you'll have all the trees you want.'

'Will you come with me? I'll make you the first knight of my Treesguard, just like in your stories.'

'Oh, will you now?' He didn't bother to correct her, instead offered her another spoon. Treesguard, queensguard, seven hells, even if she wanted a kingsguard, he'd be part of it. Anything for her. 'I'm afraid I'll be too old by then to cross the Narrow Sea again. But I promise you, you'll have all the trees you want on my personal order, isn't that right, Irma?'

The woman seemed to be fast asleep. 'Eh, Irma?' he bellowed now.

'Oh, I heard you all right. By the time she has her own castle, you'll be dead,' she snorted, not even bothering to open her eyes.

'Speak for yourself, woman.'

Despite the laughter on both parts, Irma's statement had Dany worried. 'You won't die, will you?'

His smile faltered immediately when he saw how seriously worried she was by the joke. The heavy silence that followed had Dany's eyes blinking with tears, struck by grief at the thought of losing the only person whom she knew capable of chasing away the nightmares and kissing away the pain when she bruised herself again.

Ser Willem put the broth aside.

'Come here.' He enveloped her in his arms and hugged her tightly.

'Of course I won't die,' he sang, hoping to obliterate her doubts. 'But I want you to remember this. If something does happen, do not look back, you hear me? If you look back, you are lost.'

Dany wasn't sure what he meant with those words, but nodded all the same. She could trust him to be right. He always was, just like the mothers in his stories were always right.

By the time she'd finished her broth, her eyes had started drooping, the warmth of it having made her sleepy. She felt him pick her up in his arms and plant a soft kiss on the top of her hair. The way back was cold, and she was grateful when Ser Willem tucked her into the warmth of her covers. Gathering all her strength, she opened her eyes and smiled drowsily at her big grey bear of a knight, suppressing a yawn with all her might.

'Will you stay?'

The bed shifted under his weight as he came sitting down next to her. Brushing her hair out of her eyes, he promised her he wouldn't leave until he knew she was fast asleep. The storm raging on outside bothered her no more with him there next to her.


End file.
